


Pie to Go

by hanni_banana



Category: Hannibal (TV), Pushing Daisies
Genre: But no one dies, Crossover, Digby needs petting, FullerFeast, Humor, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Series, Will pets Digby, the pie is to die for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11382057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanni_banana/pseuds/hanni_banana
Summary: Hannibal and Will are laying low while crossing the country, and inadvertently stop in at The Pie Hole.  Hannibal is blown away by the pie, and intrigued by the strangeness he senses from the couple behind the counter.





	Pie to Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HannibalCreative's #FullerFeast crossover/fusion event! (Written quickly, so I apologize for any typos.)

Will woke from a half-sleep as Hannibal put the car into park. 

“Where are we?” he mumbled.

“I am not quite sure,” Hannibal said easily. “But it seems as good a time as any to eat something. Afterward, we can make good time through the night.”

Will blinked at the building they were in front of. A red sign advertised it as The Pie Hole. He sighed and unfastened his seat belt, then opened the door and unfolded himself from the car. 

He and Hannibal had been holed up in a cabin for months, and were finally well enough to make their way south to the boat Hannibal had procured. They hadn’t had any problems so far; the search had died down and keeping a low profile had been surprisingly easy.

Will looked at the restaurant and raised a brow. There was something odd about this place, though it didn’t feel dangerous or suspicious. “What made you stop here? Do they even serve anything else but pie?”

“Something about it seemed intriguing.”

Will shrugged and followed Hannibal in. He wasn’t opposed to making a meal of dessert, even this late, and Hannibal had an uncanny knack for picking out restaurants that had had food up to his standards, even on their getaway road trip.

They were the only ones inside. A dark-haired girl behind the counter smiled at them as they came in. “Welcome to The Pie Hole,” she said cheerfully.

Will expected Hannibal to head for one of the booths, but he saw a spark of peculiar interest in Hannibal’s eye as he looked at the young woman, and Hannibal headed toward the counter.

“You are not about to close, are you?” Hannibal asked. “We wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Nope,” she said, smiling broadly. “We’re here.”

“Excellent,” Hannibal said, sitting at a stool at the counter.

Will followed suit, and the girl placed two menus in front of them. 

“I’m Chuck,” she said. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

She turned her attention to other things, and Will raised an eyebrow at Hannibal, his question of what had piqued Hannibal’s interest clear in his eyes.

Hannibal leaned in, all the while perusing the menu. “That girl smells like death.”

Will frowned. “What, like she’s just been near a dead body?”

“Yes and no.” Hannibal’s brow furrowed slightly. “It’s peculiar. I know what death smells like, yet I’ve never smelled anything like her.”

“We’re here to eat,” Will reminded him, in an even lower undertone. “We don’t have time to get distracted while we’re leaving the country.”

“I’m not distracted; I’m intrigued.”

“Same difference,” Will muttered, glancing back at the menu.

When Chuck drifted back over, Hannibal gave her a polite smile and asked, “Your choices are impressive, but I find myself indecisive. What would you recommend? What is the best dessert in the house?”

She smiled. “They’re all excellent and delicious.”

“Oh, but every chef has a dish they have perfected.”

“Our pie maker doesn’t make things unless they’re perfect,” she said, still beaming. She meant every word, Will could tell.

So could Hannibal. He smiled broader, looking perfectly charming. “I leave it up to you, then. Bring us three slices of whatever is freshest.”

“It’s all fresh.” She winked. Then she moved behind the counter, cutting slices of three different pies that were spread on a large Lazy Susan between the front of the restaurant and the kitchen. She set the three plates in front of them, and then gave them each forks. “Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” Will said.

There was a slice of cherry pie, apple pie, and blueberry pie. Each piece looked absolutely perfect. He could definitely make a meal out of this, and probably some more besides.

Will picked up his fork and tasted the apple pie, which was nearest to him. It was good—old fashioned and perfect, like the kind of pie he used to find at mom and pop diners when he was kid.

Hannibal took a bite just after he did, and while Will was expecting approval, he wasn’t expecting Hannibal’s reaction. Hannibal’s eyes widened in a way that they only did when he was truly and pleasantly surprised.

Hannibal chewed and swallowed, and then said, “This is the best pie I’ve ever tasted.”

“We get that a lot,” Chuck said, still smiling.

Will snickered, still watching Hannibal, before he looked the short distance away to where she was leaning on the back counter. “You don’t understand. My husband is a gourmet, and a chef as well. And he doesn’t lie about food.” He might omit some things about it, but he wouldn’t lie about it. “If he says this is the best pie he’s ever tasted, it’s not an exaggeration.”

“Well,” she said, grinning. “I will pass along your compliments to the chef.”

Hannibal ate a piece of the cherry, and then the blueberry. “Truly,” he said, “I am astounded. The flavor is almost vibrant. Yet I can discern no ingredient that is out of the ordinary.” Then he smiled a charming smile. “Can you tell me how it was prepared? I must be able to make this for myself and Will sometime.”

Chuck walked to stand in front of them. “I can’t give away our secrets,” she said pleasantly. “As a fellow chef, you must understand.”

“Indeed I do,” Hannibal said. He lowered his voice and said conspiratorially, “I have my own secret ingredients as well.”

Chuck smiled. “We don’t actually have a secret ingredient,” she whispered. “It’s all in the preparation. But that’s a secret.”

Will had finished off half of the apple pie at this point. “We’re going to need another one of these,” he said.

“Coming right up!” She whirled around and cut another piece, then set another it in front of them.

At that moment, a door opened in the back and a voice called, “I took Digby out! Are we almost ready to close up? Oh, hello.” The man stopped as she saw them through the open kitchen wall. “I didn’t realize we still had customers.”

“We’ll be out of your hair soon,” Will said.

“No problem. It’s not a problem. We just live upstairs. Digby!”

This was said as a dog rounded the corner and came out to sit by Will’s stool.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I try not to let him around customers. That is, customers in general. Some customers like him.” He followed the dog out of the kitchen as he spoke, then paused when he got out front, making a helpless gesture as he brought his hands together. Then he simply said, “Digby, come.”

“It’s fine,” Will said, smiling as he pet the dog with his left hand. “I seem to collect dogs.”

“And they seem to know it,” Hannibal said. Then his gaze drifted toward the man. “Are you the pie maker?”

“Yes, I am. Ah, I’m Ned, that is. Hello.”

Hannibal smiled. “I’m afraid I have to admit that I was trying to discover your secret.”

“My secret?” Ned squeaked.

“Yes. The secret of your marvelous pies.”

“Oh, that secret,” Ned said, not sounding convincing in any way at all.

Hannibal might have been intrigued by Chuck, but Will turned his own attention to Ned. There were secrets in his eyes, but none that Will could find the design of. The only thing he gleaned was that this man was involved with death, though not in any way that made sense.

The pie was excellent, though.

As if reading his mind, Hannibal said, “Normally, it is against my principles to ask for a to go box, but I would like six pieces, please.”

“Of course,” Ned said. “What kind?”

“Surprise me.”

He and Chuck turned and began cutting pieces from different pies.

Will looked at Hannibal. “Does he smell like death?”

“The pie maker? No. Why do you ask?”

“I think it follows him. Or he follows it. But I don’t know what it means.”

Hannibal tilted his head, looking at Will’s feet, where the dog still sat. “Though there is something peculiar about our other companion’s scent as well.”

Will glanced down. The dog stared back at him good-naturedly, intelligence in its eyes. It reminded him a little of Winston.

“This place is strange,” Will said. He hadn’t felt right since they had walked in here. The restaurant, the people, the town, everything was _off_ somehow. It was pleasantly off, but off still the same.

Will could see Hannibal’s thoughts spinning without direction. The girl who smelled like death, the impossible pies, and the man with secrets were all connected somehow, but even Will couldn’t make the leap. Hannibal seemed content to be pleasantly mystified by the whole affair. It was a calm sort of interest, something he would have acted on had they not had more pressing matters. But they did have more pressing matters.

Chuck put a box on the counter. “There you go.” She produced two peaches and placed them in as well. “And these, on the house.”

Hannibal smiled. “Peaches are not in season.”

“These are,” she said brightly.

Ned cleared his throat. “We, uh, have a very good grocer.”

Chuck passed the box to Hannibal, who stood. “Thank you.” He then opened his wallet and pulled out several bills.

“I’ll get your change.”

“No need,” Hannibal said. “You’ve given us a respite from the road and pleasant company. Consider it my thanks.”

“Thank you,” Ned said, frowning slightly.

“Come back again,” Chuck said, still smiling.

“It is unlikely we will be in the area again, but if we ever are, we will do so. I shall certainly always remember you.”

If that had been said by Hannibal to anyone else, Will would have considered it a threat. But he heard nothing of a promise in Hannibal’s voice, just a filing away of people into his memory palace

Hannibal took the box, and Will stood as well. “Thank you,” Will said to Ned and Chuck, who stood behind the counter, not touching. He didn’t know why that suddenly struck him as strange. They were clearly together and clearly in sync with each other, but they almost stood like mannequins.

He pet Digby again before he followed Hannibal out.

“Have a nice evening!” Chuck called behind them, and then the door shut.

Hannibal got into the car and gave Will the box of pie to hold. He started the engine.

“That was strange,” Will said again.

“I agree. And yet I cannot pinpoint why.”

“I’m surprised you weren’t more curious about pinpointing why.” When Hannibal didn’t respond, Will said, “You talked to them for a while. It wasn’t exactly keeping a low profile.”

“They are too concerned with keeping their own secrets to be curious about ours. They are used to being the strangest things they know.”

That struck Will as incredibly true.

“At any rate, even if they do recognize us, we will be out of the country shortly.” Hannibal pulled out onto the road.

Will ran his fingers over the box in his hands. “It really is amazing pie.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, sounding almost wistful. “It will have to be savored, for I do not think I will ever see the like again.”

Will watched in the side mirror as The Pie Hole got smaller and smaller. “No, I don’t suppose we will.”

They drove on into the night, and The Pie Hole disappeared completely.

**Author's Note:**

> Me on [tumblr](https://hanni-banana.tumblr.com)! <3


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